Crucify My Love
by Glamour Boy
Summary: Reno lives in poverty on the streets, emotionally disordered and suicidal. A vampire and his male lover take Reno's life, and it's only after he's dead that Reno sees why life is worth living. [I'm gunna delete this soon, unless I get more interest]
1. Chapter 1

Hey Min'na!

This is the firstfan-fiction I have ever writen/posted here, so please R&R! I would really appreciate reviewsto see how I'm doing. Any compliments and/or _appropriate_ critizism would be great, and if you have anything in mind forwhat the future of this fan-fic will be, add that too. I get majorwriter's block, so pleasebe patient with me.More reviews more chapters. Domo arigatou!

Love and love, Glamour Boy.

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_Flames dance all around my body, licking gently at my flesh. I'm drowning in the fire, struggling for air, struggling for breath..._

The memory is painted across my mind, never allowing me to forget, and I think about it every conscious moment. For every breath I take, I pay for it with that memory. My family had been taken from me, and for what reason, I do not know. I don't know what they have done to deserve it. I don't know what I had done to deserve to remain alive, living in this endless misery of guilt. I wish I had died with them. But, unfortunately, I am not an easy one to kill.

I had stumbled out of that house, half-alive, and watched it burn to the ground with my family still inside as I collapsed on the ground. I didn't know what was happening and what I was to do. I had hardly been conscious then. Too much had been happening at once. I had been stripped of everything I had lived for.

Despite how damaged my emotional and mental self had been, I was harmed little physically, though I still bear scars from that time in my life today. And then I did the only thing I thought I could have done: run away. But can it really be called running away when there was nothing left to run away from?

I am going to die. I can feel it. I'm not in any immediate danger from anyone in particular, the exception being myself. I sit in a bar, slouching over a table, counting the little money I have left from pick pocketing. I pay no one any mind, and in return, no one bothers me. It all evens out.

I look straight ahead, staring at a stray lock of red hair that falls in front of my eyes, wondering how long I can go without brushing it aside. My childish form of entertainment. But I can tell you from experience there's not much going for entertainment when you're at the mercy of poverty. I then decide that this is completely irrelevant to the matter most important at hand: my 'suicide mission;' that is, my mission to end my life. I brush the hair out of my face, and look once more at the money before me.

There's probably enough for seven meals, a week's worth if I only have one meal a day. So I'm guaranteed seven more days to live, unless someone decides to attack me for some reason. Or I could drown myself and my misery in booze. There's enough for a few drinks. Would they question my age? I am not old enough to even be in a bar, being sixteen, but no one has attempted to kick me out. Another possibility comes to my mind. There's more than enough for a few bullets, but nothing much can be said about a gun. I'd have to steal one, and maybe there'll already be bullets in it if I'm lucky...

I sweep the money off the table, pocket it, and step out of the bar and into the night. In this part of town, everyone carries a gun at night. Well, almost everyone. I'm an exception. Only prostitutes, alcoholics, and people like myself who scrape a living off the streets hang out here during the night hours. So, there won't be too much trouble finding a gun.

How right I am. The next guy that passes me has a gun nestled in his pocket. He isn't trying hard to conceal it, and I have sharp eyes. Besides, he's drunk. I mean, pissed drunk. He can barely walk, for crying out loud. He stumbles into a garbage can and screams at it, "Wha' the fuck're ya looking' a'?" before falling ungracefully to the ground, unconscious. I creep silently up to him, my emaciated body moving cat-like along the walls. It's a perfect opportunity, almost too perfect, and I'm not about to let this chance escape. I need for this chance to not escape. I reach out for the gun, my tongue caught between my teeth in concentration. I don't want to rustle the man's clothes, not even the slightest bit, drunk or not. I remove the gun with an expert's hand. And now for the easy part: turning around and walking away.

And that I do...or at least the turning around part. I feel a tight grip on my shoulder and I find myself spinning around before I know what is happening to me. The drunk man's face is nose-to-nose with mine, the booze sickeningly heavy in his breath.  
"I'll let ya take tha' gun for a fuck, kid."

My first thought is I hope I'm not like this when I'm drunk, talking to other men in a very sexually charged manner. My second is Damn, how come he's up and what do I do now? I think what I need to do now is set my priorities straight.

And my third is what I say to him.

"Shit, that's all I need before I pull a trigger with the gun to my head, a fuck with a drunk bastard. You can have the gun back. It'll be next to my dead body. Come and pick it up when you hear about the suicide of a teenage boy on the news."

I turn around again, frustrated for being held up. I want to get this over with before I decide to change my mind. But the man is very persistent, and I must say, very annoying. So I turn to slug him in the gut, but he grabs my wrists and pins me against an alley wall. I struggle, but my body is too weak for a fight. The guy is doing very well for being drunk, and probably is stronger than I'll ever be sober.

"Just one 'lil fuck is all I'm asking for..."  
"Well, I'm not interested. Go find it elsewhere!" I shout at him.

I'm not even scared that this man is trying to force himself upon me, just enraged. He's a barrier in my mission that I need to remove. Still holding my wrists, he kneels, and then allows his right hand to trail down my chest and stomach, fiddling with my belt buckle in an attempt to remove it. This, unfortunately for him, is a grave mistake, for my body is no longer crammed between him and the wall, and my left arm is free. I grab his throat and smash his face into my knee. The man's nose gives a sickening crunch, and blood splatters out of it, most of it ending up on my ragged jeans. I throw him to the ground and coolly walk away, feeling that I've handled that situation very well.

How does one kill oneself with a gun? This question maybe less stupid than it first appears after given some thought. Where do I want to put the bullet? I sit in a dumpster with the gun pointing at my temple. It's where I belong, in the dump, with the rest of the garbage that no one has any use for anymore. I don't have any use for myself. I have nothing to live for, and nothing lives for me, so what's the point?

This is hard as hell. Okay, a piece of lead in the head or in the heart? Maybe I can twist my arm around and shoot myself in the back...is there even a bullet in the gun? I take the gun away from my head and check. One. Just one bullet. Well, if I don't die on one shot, it's going to hurt like hell. Then I'll probably die slowly and painfully. Perfect. The death I always wanted. So where do I shoot to make it most effective? If I shoot myself in the head, maybe I'll find out whether there is even a brain there.

I raise the gun back to my temple, and tighten my finger on the trigger.

I am dead to the world, and the world is dead to me.


	2. Chapter 2

I thought it had been my fate to die.  
I believed it had been my fate to die.  
I accepted it to be my fate to die.  
I wanted it to be my fate to die...

But it had seemed that the more I wished death, the less it came to me. And whenever the chance came, I let it slip through my fingers like sifted sand. But now I lost death again. I had been rescued on the wings of an angel. Although the creature that had saved me is far from what most mortals believed to be an angel, to me he had truly represented a godsend from heaven.

The single bullet is never released from the gun. The only thing that keeps my finger frozen on the trigger is the sight of the most beautiful man I have ever seen. I have always considered myself far from being homosexual, and in the last few years of my life I haven't given much thought to my sexuality, my mind being too pre-occupied with suicide. But as soon as I lay my eyes upon him, I am shocked at what I feel for him.

And he notices my stare, as well as the weapon I have pointed to myself.

I sit in that dumpster spellbound as he gracefully makes his way towards me. His long, silver hair that frames the soft curves of his face flows in the gentle breeze. His feet hardly seem to touch the ground. He stands before me, and I look away, ashamed at the emotions I am feeling. Before I can do anything to stop him, he pulls the gun away from my hands, but I do not object. He hooks a long, delicate finger under my chin forcing me to gaze deeply into his inhumanly bright green eyes. I surpress a gasp of pleasure as he takes his other hand and rubs away a smudge of dirt on my cheek. He speaks, his voice rich with command, yet at the same time, compassionate.

"Such a pretty boy," he mutters, shaking his head. "Why would you take your own life?"  
Good question.  
"Because I have no use for it," I reply darkly, covering my emotions. "Nor does anyone else."  
He looks at me sadly and shakes his head again. I look into his eyes, which observe me softly, and I can tell that he is pondering something that is on his mind.  
"What is your name?"  
"Reno."  
He continues to stare.  
"Age?"  
"Sixteen."

He just keeps staring at me, probably seeing me as a helpless, homeless boy in desperate need of love and a new life. He puts his arms around me, and lifts my body out of the dumpster as easily as though I am a rag-doll and places me on my feet. I try to stand, but collapse in memorization by his beauty and he catches me in his arms, holding me to his muscle-bound chest. He brushes away my bangs from my face, and looks down at me.  
"Would you like to come with me, Reno, and start a new life?"  
I hesitate, my mouth slightly open as I search for an answer that would make me appear indifferent and not at all eager to follow him home.  
"I have no where else to go."  
He smiles approvingly, and I catch a glimpse of fanged incisors.

I eagerly follow this man down the street, naive and searching for anything to help me heal the wounds of my past. I am taken to an impressively massive mansion. The man opens the French double-doors, which bear glasswork of most complexity, and steps back to allow me to enter. I am hardly prepared for what my eyes are to see. I stand in an entrance hall, lit by countless candles, big enough to hold an average-sized house. As I catch sight of the rooms down numerous corridors that branch off from the hall, I can see that the entire mansion is furnished with every luxury possible.

In my mind, I am unconscious to what the man's true nature is, but I am not shocked when he introduces himself and reveals to me what he is: a vampire by the name of Sephiroth. I cannot deny that I am frightened, but he enlightens me by telling me his true intentions.

We sit together in a cozy little room, a fire blazing warmly in the hearth. I sit upright and stiff in an armchair, prepared to react if Sephiroth shows any sign of attacking me, but he just lies sprawled casually on a couch opposite of me, a simper playing about the corners of his lips, his vampiric fangs respectfully concealed.

"So, you are willing to stay here with me?" Sephiroth says, his voice low and gentle.  
"...Yes," I say hesitantly.  
Sephiroth senses my doubt. His mind invades my own, and I gasp. My thoughts are being trespassed, and I feel exposed to him. Sephiroth probes my mind no father than he needs to and he withdraws. I relax again. Sephiroth grins at me.  
"You don't need to be so anxious. I'm not a blood-crazed monster. I won't drain you dry and leave your body to rot as an empty corpse." He looks mischievously at me. "If you are to stay here, I need payment for my hospitality. I do require blood to survive. If you agree to this, I will allow you to stay."

I couldn't refuse this man. He has me spellbound. I want to live with him. And I realize just then how strong my desires are for Sephiroth. I stand up and bow deeply, holding that position for several moments.

"I will serve you well, master."

He looks at me with amusement and smiles softly. "You accept then. I have another condition. You must not reveal to anyone that I am a vampire. Otherwise, I will regretfully have to silence you by any means possible, and kill any you told."

These words reach my ears as empty threats. I can hardly believe what is happening. I am truly going to live with Sephiroth, the beautiful angel from heaven. My young mind is far from able to comprehend this. I feel as though in a fevered dream. But this is my reality. Sephiroth is my reality. Am I to believe this? I feel no trace of my usual depressed, suicidal self. I almost smack myself and think What kind of god-forbidden drugs am I on?

If this is a dream (or just me completely high) it's a damn good one. Well, I have nothing to lose. There is a gorgeous creature in front of me, and my life's worth of sexual desires that most ordinary boys would have encountered before my age are to be no longer ignored. I have a lot of pent-up love. I settle myself on top of Sephiroth, straddling his perfect body. He neither looks angry nor displeased. I think he had been expecting this, as he probably had caught a glimpse of my emotions as he read my mind.

"I will be faithful, master," I whisper in his ear.

I lean in, pressing my lips against his own. They are so pale, so deathly cold, yet so soft and welcoming. He never pulls away. I touch my tongue to his lips, asking for entrance, but he releases the kiss.   
"So that's how it's going to be, is it?" Sephiroth asks with a smile.

The question is left unanswered.

He sits up quickly, and the force throws my slight body back. He sets his wonderfully built body over my own, careful not to bear his weight on me. Sephiroth quickly wins dominance. I am trapped beneath him; both arms pinned over my head by one of his hands, and the other lightly running up and down the length of my chest.

"You're so small," he comments in a low voice. "Still need some filling out to do. I think life on the streets has taken a toll on your poor body."  
I only smile and reply, "Nothing a little love can't take care of."  
He smiles back and takes my face in the hand that had been exploring my body.  
You are a handsome boy, Reno. You will grow up to be a fine young man."

With that, he leans over me. I can taste Sephiroth's sweet lips once again, and he gently coaxes my tongue into his mouth. He strokes the inside of my mouth, and we indulge in a passionate kiss. I moan softly into his mouth. I am not satisfied with the limited movement the couch allows, and Sephiroth's gift of feeling another's thoughts and intentions tell him so.

"Ahhhh...Se-Sephiroth...sama..."

The vampire puts his hands behind my back, and pulls me up as he kneels on one knee, holding my body close to him. I clutch the front of his shirt, balling up the loose material in my fists. He moves away from my lips, leaving a trail of kisses as he makes his way to the juncture of my neck. A soft moan escapes my lips, and I bend my neck back under his mouth, defenseless in his arms. Sephiroth curls back his upper lip, revealing his fangs, bringing them closer to pierce my flesh. I shudder as the tips barely touch my skin, and break out in a cold sweat. I had not expected this...

But Sephiroth stops, tasting the thin layer of fearful sweat that shines on my neck. He releases me. I do not know how to feel. I am certainly frightened. Not of Sephiroth, but rather the unknown pain and pleasure of having blood taken by a vampire from the neck. I sit weakened before him as he rises to stand. He looks at me affectionately, the red firelight dancing in his liquid green eyes.

"Only to prepare you for times when you are required to give blood. And you will be prepared next time. There's no need to be frightened," he reassures me.  
I look up at him and nod slightly.  
"You did very well. I had not been mistaken in taking you home with me tonight."  
I nod again to show I am listening, but not knowing how to respond.  
" I will not be up during the daylight hours, as my nature doesn't allow me - and do not entertain the idea that I sleep in a coffin, because I do not. You may get up during the day, but I would prefer it if you follow my routine. You are not among the living, and may be lonely during the day. You may wander the mansion as you please, but if you wish to leave it, you are to inform me the night before. During the night, you may come and go as you please."  
He pauses, waiting for an answer, and I provide one for him.  
"I will follow your routine, master. I have no wish to be up during the day if you are not there with me," I say sincerely.

Sephiroth offers a hand and I allow him to pull me to my feet.  
"Well then, tomorrow night, I will introduce you to one other who lives within these walls: Vincent Valentine. In the mean time, sleep well," he says.  
I stand on the tips of my toes and press a kiss into Sephiroth's lips.  
"Sleep well, master."

He leaves the room, and I remain to sleep on the couch on which we momentarily before so affectionately kissed.


	3. Chapter 3

Crusify My Love

Part III

_Flames lick my body. Flames taste my flesh. Flames burn my soul. I feel as though I'm floating, my body detached from the earth, but in reality, I'm laying on the floor, helpless. My family is gone. Or almost gone. Whether death ceases their screams or pain, I do not know which. But they will not survive, and I will follow them, this I know. Sweat is boiling on my skin, and blood is boiling in my veins. How can a human suffer this much and still live? I fade into a state of unconsciousness, and the floating sensation of my body diminishes, and I feel myself falling down..._

I awaken to find myself facing down, my nose inches from the ground. Sephiroth's deathly grip pinches at my arms, and he drags me back onto the bed. Drops of sweat had formed on my brow, and I pant for breath, my chest falling and rising in a steady rhythm. I fall into the pillows and sigh heavily. Sephiroth tenderly brushes my cheek with his hand, and runs his fingers through my hair.

"S-Sephiroth-sama?..."

"You were having another one of your dreams, my young one," my master says gently. "Your family again?"

"Yes," I reply. "They won't go away. As long as I'm alive, they will haunt me."

Sephiroth takes me in his arms, our bare skin presses together. I shiver at his touch, his pale flesh cold. He hasn't feed enough. I sigh as I feel his presence enter my mind.

"Master."

"Yes?"

"With all due respect, I would appreciate it if you didn't do that now."

"My apologies."

Sephiroth sends light, fleeting kisses across my face and neck. I smile with affection and close my eyes, enjoying the texture of his lips against my skin as he playfully strokes my chest. His kisses move down across my jaw and I softly close my eyes, a small moan coaxed from within my throat. Sephiroth nips the svelte skin on my neck a little to roughly and I whimper. He licks the bruised skin in apology with his soft tongue and looks up at me with his shimmering green eyes. I return his stare, locking eyes with him.

"Reno..."

My Master pushes me back against the pillows with his sinuous arms and straddles my slight form, one of his legs on each side of my waist. I feel the pressure of his silky smooth lips on my own. He bites down sharply on my lip, not asking for entrance but demanding it, and I gasp as the cool sensation of blood touches my tongue. Sephiroth sucks my lip gently, drawing out small amounts of blood before sliding his tongue into my mouth. We lock our lips together, tongues intertwined.

He is rough with his mouth, hungry and passionate, but gentle and delicate with his hands. Sephiroth fondles my bare chest, pinching and stroking my nipples beneath his fingertips while my mouth is explored by his tongue. I moan into the kiss as he brushes his hands on my stomach. I am released from the kiss and Sephiroth follows his hands in a trial of kisses down to my chest, leaving streams of heat. His tongue flicks across a nipple and encloses his lips around it.

Blood rushes through my body as he sucks softly upon my chest, quickening my desire. His hands explore farther down my stomach, until reaching the barrier of my pants around my hips. Sephiroth pulls away slightly and looks up, desire radiant in his eyes. In that moment it seems as though I am the master, giving him a slight nod of allowance.

Sephiroth slides the remaining clothes off my hips and tosses them onto the ground. His eyes study my naked form and I feel helpless beneath his gaze, exposed. I drip with lust, Sephiroth's raw masculinity before me. He leans closer. Every inch I feel a warmth teem within my body. He grabs my shoulder and I feel his immortal strength as every muscle in my body tenses harder than imaginable. My thoughts race of a million things at once, but the only thing that is uttered are small, sensual whispers of delight.

My life was still for all but a minute when he threw me down and pounced upon me.

I give to Sephiroth all innocence I have ever possessed. But it was nice. I simply let it go and give in to his eyes; raw and cold, but with passion. He places his hands on my thighs, caressing them softly with his slender fingers. Coaxing my thighs apart gently with his hands, Sephiroth lifts my legs onto his built shoulders. He pins my shoulders down to the bed and I clutch his wrists, looking up at him, eyes wide with presentiment. A soft smile arises to the corners of his lips, softening the features of his pale face. Sephiroth places a hand upon my cheek, stroking it gently with his thumb.

"Are you sure you're ready for this, my young one?"

I nod faintly, my mind numbed. I only see my Master's angelic face in my vision and I reach out weakly to touch the surface of his flawless skin with my fingertips. He positions himself in front of me, giving my lips a lightly press with his own before whispering into my ear.

"This will hurt in the beginning, but the pain will pass."

Then I feel the head of his erect penis slide into my body. I grab onto Sephiroth tightly and cry out in pain as he buries himself deeper. His hand smoothes my forehead and he looks down upon my face, distorted with pain, his eyes laden with concern.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Reno," he murmurs low into my lips, pressing his forehead against mine. "Just bear it a little while longer..."

I moan and shiver in Sephiroth's arms. He holds my weakened form to his chest, allowing my body to become accustomed to his size. The racking pain within my hips ebbs into a dull agony. I gaze at Sephiroth and nod in acknowledgement. He moves back, almost pulling out of me before thrusting his full length into my body again. A scream passes my lips.

"Do it again!"

And Sephiroth thrusts into me again, a slight smile materializing on his lips. I close my eyes tightly as the sensations of pleasure and pain mingled together courses through my body. Sephiroth thrusts his hips, pounding deeper into me. Moans are elicited from my throat as the momentum of Sephiroth's body compensates the pain with an intense feeling of rapture I have never known before.

Sephiroth takes my own member into his hands, surrounding it with the silk texture of his skin as he strokes me to the rhythm of his thrusts. He takes me over the edge as I convulse and writhe beneath his body, screaming his name. The pleasure inside my body heightens, intensifying until it could go no higher.

Something bursts within my body and I ejaculate into Sephiroth hands at the same time he ejaculates into me, fusing our body's together with the substance. He pulls himself gently from my body and lies behind me, surrounding my small waist in his arms. I sigh softly and close my eyes, breathing heavily from the aftershock of our love-making. Sephiroth caresses the nape of my neck softly with his lips.

He sits up suddenly, footfalls echoing from the hall outside my Master's bedroom. The door opens and a figure peers in. He notices Sephiroth, his chest naked and I lying in his arms. A voice flows into the room, the same soft quality that is present in Sephiroth's.

"Oh my, have I entrupted something here?"

Sephiroth smiles.

"Not at all, my dear Vincent. Please come in."

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Sorry for the long update. Sharing the computer with family can be hell in a hand-basket, as many of you well know. Please review, and especially tell me what you think of the yaoi bits. Oh yeah, there's a lemon warning. I guess I should have put that at the top where people can read it, but I'm too lazy to, so I'm putting it here. 


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